


Meditation

by horsechiffon



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, Plot What Plot, blowjob, calling out emet-selch for his gayness, handjobs, miqo’te male wol, talkin bout circumcision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsechiffon/pseuds/horsechiffon
Summary: Emet-Selch is encouraged to quiet his mind and listen to the frogs.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 39





	Meditation

It was like getting cracked in the back of the head with an egg, he thought, every time he felt that aether enter his periphery. So sudden and powerful, with a bit of a slimy feeling down his neck.

“I had expected to find you with the pack,” he said, his footfalls quieted by the grass and low growing flowers.

“And yet,” the warrior supplied, cracking open an eye. He was seated straight backed on the ground, heedless of the dirt that would surely mark his white robes.

“You’re meditating,” Emet-Selch said with a touch of surprise. “Now where did you learn that?”

“Kugane,” he said simply.

Emet-Selch frowned. “Such short replies...”

“Well. You are bothering me. But if you aren’t planning on going anywhere...” the mage sighed as he got to his feet. To Emet-Selch’s surprise, the mage simple took his hands in his own and began tugging him down.

“What are you doing?” He asked crossly.

“Meditate with me, hmm? You seem like you could use it,” he said as Emet-Selch reluctantly gave in. He would have felt sillier getting on the ground if he hadn’t taken a nap right in the flowers just an hour earlier.

“Sounds boring,” he protested, but made no move to take his hands away.

“It is _supposed_ to be boring. Too much going on in that head of yours, hmm?” the other man said, a lopsided smile spreading on his face. “Just listen to the frogs with me for a few minutes, and then you can tell me whatever you were thinking about.”

“Oh if you insist.” Honestly, Emet-Selch was just glad his little warrior wanted to talk to him. Even if he was a fool, surviving only by the miraculous nature of his own white magics.

“Just... focus on your breathing. Listen to the frogs... try to clear your mind for a bit, hmm? I won’t make you do it for too long, I just want to finish my own.” 

And then the white mage fell into silence as he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. Emet-Selch almost considered following along, but instead decided to take this opportunity to look at him more closely than he had previously been able to.

So, he took him in. He had light brown hair, kept long and tied into a braid. He wore a thin, silver circlet that tucked into his hair under the loose strands. His robes were all white, making him stand out no matter where he happened to be. 

He watched the other man press his feline ears against his head. He must have been batting away some concentration-ruining thought. A moment later his ears perked back up and the consternation in his expression fades. Emet-Selch begins counting the freckles on his cheeks that he was sure weren’t there before the excursion in Ahm Arang. His gaze then falls to his lips: light pink and a bit on the fuller side. They would be perfect if not for the scar running through them. Pity.

Oddly, the last thing he noticed is that they were still holding hands. By the time he was nearly done studying his face, the other’s eyes opened. What a lovely green, Emet-Selch thought.

“I thought so,” said the mage as e came out of his near trance.

“Thought what, pray tell,” Emet-Selch groused.

“You’re like me, you like men,” he said simply.

Emet-Selch leaned back. That was absolutely not where he thought he was going to go with that. “Explain,” he said, but did not tell him that he was wrong.

“Hmm? Why else would you sit here with me and do something you clearly find beneath you? And I caught you staring, you know. Oh, and all of your mannerisms.”

Emet-Selch frowned. “Like you, you said.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the biggest reason though. I can just tell. Am I wrong?” He asked, squeezing Emet-Selch’s hands. Oh god, they were still—

Emet-Selch pulled his hands out of the other’s grasp. “Perhaps so, but why do you care?”

“You’ve had wives, right?” came the mage’s airy voice. “As in... a lot of them.”

“My plans always hinged on playing the long game, and keeping others in check. Easier to do from that position,” he reasoned easily.

“So... When’s the last time you bedded someone you actually found attractive?” He asked, setting his hands on Emet-Selch’s thighs.

“Are you coming onto me?” He spat. “Or worse, making fun of me.”

“Huh? No, no... Nothing like that. Well. The first thing, not the second thing,” he said, showing a fang.

“Disgusting,” he said plainly, glaring down at the hands on his thighs. “And what would your fellow scions think?”

“Mmm... I can’t say I care. They all think I’m a bit off anyway. They never say it out loud. Not like there’s anything really wrong with liking men, but I can tell that they don’t relate,” he said, leaning in and tilting his head.

“What is this to you, then?” He asked, ready for the answer to give him a new headache.

“Didn’t you want to find some common ground?” He said, leaning in close.

“Yes, but not in matters such as the—“

The white mage silenced him with a kiss, taking advantage of the position of his mouth to sneak his tongue in.

Oh, why the hell not? Emet-Selch thought as he unfroze and began to kiss back. They sat like that for several more seconds before the white mage broke their kiss.

“Hey... not bad,” he said.

“Of course I’m not bad at kissing—“ Emet-Selch clamped down on his flare of irritation. Now he just wanted to see where this might go. His thoughts were interrupted by a hand moving up his skirts.

“Ah, pardon you!” He said slightly shrilly, nabbing his wrist. 

“What, was that a little fast for an eternal being?” He asked with a chuckle.

“That’s a little fast for anyone! I’d thought you a savage, but at least a mannered one!”

He laughed, warm and carefree, before ducking his head a bit. “Well, someone is always watching my moves, so I do try to be efficient.”

“Says the man who wanders off to listen to frogs.”

Damn him, he thought. How could he put him so off balance with such elementary tactics? Had it truly been so long?

Before he knew it, his thoughts were interrupted again, but this time, the mage was just pulling him down onto the ground with him. 

“What do you think my odds are of surviving all of this?” He asked suddenly, bringing Emet-Selch fully out of his thoughts.

“Odds? Fairly slim. What you have done so far has surprised me... I worry your luck is about to run out. But you never do fail to surprise, do you?” Emet-Selch gazed at the other with a curious look. “Instincts getting the best of you as you stare down your own mortality?”

He laughed then, clear as a bell and genuine. “Ahhh, you got me. This is all sort of scary, isn’t it? And anyway... Been a while for me, and I figure you haven’t had anyone in several decades at least...”

“Hmph. This seems desperate,” Emet-Selch said with a huff. “I refuse to be anyone’s near-random choice.”

“Hey, I never said I didn’t find you handsome, I just thought you might not care if I said so,” the other chuckled.

“Oh? Well. Do go on,” he said, his interest properly piqued now.

“Yeah, you’re handsome. I like your bone structure here,” he said, grinning as he placed a hand on his cheek. “When you aren’t scowling, you do have some really soulful eyes, you know,” he said inching closer.

Emet-Selch couldn’t believe that the vaunted Warrior of Darkness was hitting on him, and to a greater degree, that he was letting him.

“Now, I know you’ve seen mine with all the watching you do...”

Conversational whiplash, as usual.

“I don’t watch you piss on trees, if that’s what you’re implying,” he said dryly.

“No, nothing so crude! But I do bathe frequently...”

“And I’m not a pervert,” Emet-Selch batted back. “Even though it is becoming quite clear that you are.”

“Hadn’t taken you for a prude,” he said, rankling him.

“I’m not a prude!” He shot back.

“Ha, prove it.”

He was lucky that he was so handsome, so magnetic. The stupid part of his brain chimed in. ‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ And the answers began piling. But here was this young man, beautiful and innocent in his own way. Expressing his humanity and accepting it in himself, even after knowing what he was...

“... Alright, hero, color me interested. We’ll play with one another in the bushes like furtive little lovers if it will make you feel better,” Emet-Selch said.

“Ah, one thing. Once we’re touching each other, I’m not “hero” or “warrior”. Just call me Dehna.”

“How intimate, dropping the Ipsilon,” he noted.

“That’s right,” he said, voice a whisper. With no further protestations, he reached down to pull the gathered fabric of his robe up. “Ooh, you’ve got tights under here. Thought you might be a bit freer.”

“What. What, why, are you?” Emet-Selch asked as he reached forward, feeling so strange as he did. He tugged the robes up easily, the light-weight fabric bunching easily and offering little resistance. “Boggling, truly. Does everyone know you run around like this?”

“Haha, probably. But what do they care?” Y’Dehna said, tugging his barely-there briefs down.

Emet-Selch found himself blushing at the forwardness. Unfair, typically he was the one—

He snapped his fingers, ridding himself of his leather coat and layers, leaving just his white undershirt, tights, and boots. Not wanting to be outdone, he tugged the ties of his pants open and allowed the other man to peel them down.

“Really handsome cock you’ve got there. Did it come that way, or...?” Y’Dehna asked with a predatory little smile.

“You’re incorrigible. But yes, I made it myself,” he said, glancing down at it as it laid flaccid in his leg. “You would hope an emperor would have the legacy to match.” 

The glans was shapely, the vein prominent but not bulging, the foreskin just covered halfway up that pretty glans... the attention to detail really was something. Even the pubic hair, trimmed neatly to not detract from the visuals on his length.

Y’Dehna, on the other hand, just had to deal with nature and tradition. He was on the smaller side and cut according to tribal standard. 

“Oh no, you’ve a scar there...” Emet-Selch tutted as he pulled off his gloves. He reached over, turning his cock a bit to look at it. “This looks...”

“Like it hurt? Yeah. Coming of age thing, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t hurt anymore at any rate. Still can feel with it just fine.”

They sidled up next to each other, hip to hip, Dehna’s head on Emet-Selch’s shoulder. They took one another in hand, coaxing gasps and moans from one another as they went. Dehna pressed firm with his thumb against the head as he noted the first beads of pre-come, smearing it around the sensitive thing. 

“Oh, Dehna...” he said in barely more than a whisper. The smaller man’s thighs twitched as Emet-Selch pulled his wrapped hand up against the ridges of his glans, then back down to his balls in perfect motions. 

“Ah... ah! Oh, twelve! Where did you learn that?” He asked as he bit his lip and pressed his head against Emet-Selch’s plush chest. He was so sure that he would finish second that he cursed as he moaned and muffled himself with the muscle there. “Ohhhh, that’s so good...”

Emet-Selch stroked him through his orgasm, only stopping when the other man began twitching with overstimulation.

“Now that... That’s gonna be hard to follow. Wisdom of the ancients, huh?” He said with a goofy little smile.

“Do tell me that isn’t you just giving up,” he said with a sigh and an unattended erection.

“Of course not, I never give up! I just... wanna put that in my mouth.”

Emet-Selch chuckled and gestured to his cock. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to stop you.”

And that was all the invitation he needed to shift himself down, knees in the grass, one hand on his thigh and the other at the base of his long cock. He closed his eyes as his lips met the tip. He breathed in the scent of his fresh musk as he sunk down, sucking it as far back as he could. It was bigger than what he was used to, and it had been quite a while since then.

Still, he went at it with enthusiasm, matching pressure and depth with Emet-Selch’s little sounds. He was spurred on by the hand at the back of his head that both begged him and revealed his desire for control. Dehna grinned internally as he felt that hand close in around the braid at the base of his skull. He bobbed his head, tasting come as he noticed how Emet-Selch’s posture froze, how his legs had come up a bit and his head was thrown back in ecstasy of the moment.

Dehna swallowed before pulling off of him and licking him clean.

Emet-Selch’s breath steadied as his hand unclenched and he began to just rub his upper back.

“See? Wasn’t that nice?” he asked, enjoying the look of Emet-Selch’s face finally relaxed.

“Hmm, better than the meditation at any rate. My mind does actually feel clear.”

Y’Dehna chuckled. “Well, I’d better be heading back to the group... but I do try to break away and meditate every so often. You’re welcome to join me again.”

Emet-Selch watched him stand up and dust himself off, putting his clothes back in order. Emet-Selch simply snapped his fingers to redress. He felt an odd tug, sad that it was over. Yet.

“I’ll consider it... Dehna.”


End file.
